Confrontations
by Lanhar
Summary: The series of confrontations working back from Till Cindy, to show how people came to know about Mark.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** Ok this is a series of confrontation like meetings set in my Till Cindy realm. So read that first, so this makes a little more sense. It will work backwards from that point explaining how things happened. Or how people found out what happened to Mark.

Any feedback is great, helps me write better, so constructive criticism is fantastic, but anything even hey I liked it, or a smiley face would be nice, so I know people read this and think something of it.

**Collins**

Mark had been crying. Collins could tell that just by looking at the younger man. He was sitting peacefully with an almost empty Styrofoam cup of hospital tea in the small plastic chair in the corner of Angel's hospital room. There was an empty look in Mark's eyes, eye that were rimmed in red, with tear tracks dried to his face, that empty look that Collins could remember seeing on only a few occasions, most ending with Mark falling asleep in odd places around the loft.

Collins also knew that asking what was wrong would not grant him an answer that was truthful, and it would only anger Collins and scare Mark. Collins knew that from experience as well. Mark was so good at other peoples emotions and so poor with his own, trying to save others from his problems. Collins had learned enough that asking Mark like this would only make it worse. The few times Collins had tried to speak to Mark when he was like this, only lead to more cry and yelling. Both of which scared the shit out of Collins to tell the truth. Collins liked happy, and fun, and drunk. He knew a lot, but it was hard for him to see Mark so torn. And angry, Mark angry was not fun, and Collins had learned to stop asking.

So Collins let his eyes turn to Angel. His love, his everything. Angel was watching Mark with a sad smile on her face, and then when she saw Collins she grinned. But a glance at Mark left her sad again. Worry for Mark etching itself in her features in a way that Collins had never seen, this deep sadness on her was heartbreaking to the older man.

"Mark honey, I want you to head home now. Collins is here and I know you need to sleep before you help Maureen tonight." Angel's voice was soft, yet commanding. Mark looked up at her and simply nodded an ok and walk slowly out the door, and they had to assume, to the loft to sleep. It was an automations walk, slow and mechanical, and with no life whatsoever in it. It was scary to Collins, to see that in one of his best friends.

"What happened?" Collins took a seat on the edge of Angel's hospital bed. She looked at him a moment, as though judging him and what she was about to say.

"Promise me something Collins." She finally asked him.

"Anything Angel."

"Take care of Mark when I am gone."

"Angel, honey you are."

"I'm not Collins, you know it, I know it, we all know it. If not now, it will be next time, I won't live forever love. It's almost my time, and I am sad to leave you but I have lived life as well as I could, don't morn me, and don't pity me with talk of leaving this room alive. Now promise me." She was commanding when she wanted to be. She left no room for argument that she would live that much longer. It was important, Collins got that from her tone.

"I will, but what are you talking about. I have watched out for him for years." Collins was extremely confused by this request. He had known Mark for several years, and while everyone had to remind the skinny filmmaker to eat, Mark always took care of them. Never the other way around. Mark was the care giver in the group, sure Collins was there for advice, but Mark made sure they lived. He made sure they took medication and ate. He made sure there was something to burn in the winter, and open windows in the summers.

What could possibly be bothering him this much, that Angel was this worried about him?

"What do you mean Ang?" Collins asked.

"He, I. Promise me this isn't going to be repeated. Promise me you wont try and talk to Mark about it, or Roger or anyone. Please." The desperation in her tone shocking Collins. It wasn't often Angel sounded that scared about anything. She faced life and death head on.

"I promise baby, now tell me what has you so bothered." His voice was soft, and soothing and curios.

"I can't tell you how I know this, or how it came about. I promised never to do that. But I also made a promise that he would be taken care of. So I need you to do this for me. In the loft, in the kitchen, the draw with all the silverware in the little bucket, behind that bucket is a bottle of pills. For Mark."

Collins could picture clearly that beat up drawer, full of plastic and mismatched silver wear that the loft had accumulated from various restaurants over the years. And the pale plastic little box that kept everything in the front of the drawer and away from the mold stains below it. He never remembered hearing a pill bottle rolling about behind it.

"Behind the silverware is where Mark keeps his medication?" He questioned, not believing this story.

"Mark doesn't even know its there. It is refilled every so often, and I never see it happen, it just does. The bottle is filled when it gets close to empty, I have to believe it's not Mark. You pull out the silverware, lift out the little plastic holder and reach back to get the pills. He gets one crushed and mixed into his tea. Just make the tea and stir it in. Just one and he calms down. He will get sleepy and wake up forgetting anything happened. Don't talk to him about it, just give him tea, calm him until it kicks in and then put him to bed." Angel watched Collins as she spoke, and it eerie how well he was listening while looking so disbelieving at the same time.

He was worried when she said not to talk to Mark. She was known for helping people talk about their problems and deal with them.

"He has a prescription he doesn't know about?" Collins was dubious of this. Mark knew all about medication, and when to get everyone to take theirs. For him to have his own that he didn't know about was disturbing and unbelievable.

"Yes. He, Collins I don't know what it is. But he can't be alone like this. He can't handle hospitals or big Doctors, he doesn't like to be left in that loft with no noise."

Collins could understand that. Almost all of Marks' friends were going to die before him most likely, and he was the only one without a love interest. He had a camera and old film, and nothing else. Collins wouldn't want to be alone either, though seeing Angel like this in the hospital reminded him that he soon would be. But to think of Mark as needing medication, it was hard to grasp. Sure Mark could get a little emotional at times. And sure he was quite and held everything in as he helped everyone sort out their own problems, but that was just Mark being Mark.

And of course Mark wouldn't like the silence, with the number of roommates they tended to have, silence was hard to come by and many times left the loft feeling oddly empty and void. But to need medication to deal with it?

Mark was like medication to everyone else, he soothed, and calmed and made them all as well as he could. Queit, helpful little Mark.

"You can't leave him alone unless you give him half of a pill first, to keep him calm. And if you find him like, if he is, when he." Angel broke down here, memories of the one time she found Mark in a fit vivid in her minds eye. The blood and the yelling, it was to much for the happy drag queen to take in, this side of her broken friends. "You will know, you have to get him cleaned up and you have to give him at least a full pill. But if you have to go and he wants to stay, leave him a cup of tea and he should be fine. He will stay calm enough to go out and film, or edit some film without freaking out. With out hearing those voices."

"Mark hears voices?" Crap, she hadn't meant to mention that. Just get Collins worried enough to give Mark the medication.

"Sometimes. I don't know what they say, or who they are. But he hears them, they hurt him. He screws his eyes tight and yells, trying to drowned them out, he hurts himself. God Collins he had this razor to his arm when I found him. He was alone in the corner of the loft, yelling and lashing out, and the lines on his arm. You have to take better care of him. How could you not notice this?" Angel was sad and then suddenly angry at Collins. Collins had never once seen this side of her, this possessive protectiveness. He thought back on all the times Mark had been sad, or scared.

He could remember the cries and whimpers at night when Mark first moved in with him. The way Benny would always shake him awake, bring him a glass of water. The way Roger would throw things at the wall. And Collins remembered never speaking to Mark about it. Just assuming it was the same kind of trauma nightmares that they all had of their past and their fears of the future. Though at the time Collins knew his time was taken up with his masters thesis and worry over Rogers new girlfriend.

Collins could see Mark walking around in a daze at times when he came home early from class, and would wonder what he was on to give him that sad half smile and then cause him to pass out over the editing machine or the kitchen counter of all places.

He could vaguely remember Mark with no voice when he and Roger made it home one morning after a very long night out. He looked ruff, beaten up and Roger had asked if had been mugged. Mark just shrugged and walked into the shower. That was all that was ever said about it.

When Maureen moved in it got better, but looking back it was because Mark was hardly ever alone now. With Collins, Benny, Maureen, Roger and April all living in the loft with him it was rare for only one of them to be home.

"He never"

"Said anything, you think he would? Collins whatever happened to his is so far back and so horrible he can not physically speak of it, I think half the time he doesn't think it actually happened. He's broken Collins, just watch out for him." Angel calmed down, she wasn't angry anymore. Simply tired and worried. "He never does anything for himself except film, and even that is to help others. He never talks about himself, he never buys for himself. If it wasn't for staying alive to take care of us, I have to wonder how long Mark would last."

"I promise to watch over him. And I promise to keep it to myself. Should I get him help?"

"No." Angel was angry again.

"No?"

"No, don't you see. He has all the help he needs. He has me, he has you. He has whoever gets his medication. Its prescription, he must have had professional help at some point Collins. And it didn't take, so we do what we can do." Angel told him. "Just love him Collins, that's all you can do."

And Collins would. He would watch Mark fall apart when Angel died, but watched him shut aside his own emotions to help Roger and Mimi and Joanne and Maureen, and even himself deal with the grief. He watched Mark breakdown when he though no one was watching.

He saw first hand that Mark, the Mark who was crying and screaming. He saw Mark trying so hard to forget the past.

And he saw Mark dying by inches as he beat himself up to stop the sounds the invaded the now empty loft.

Collins moved back in to watch his friend. He watched Mark come back alive when he was around, and watched him live when Roger and then Mimi came home.

And then Collins watched it all crash away when Cindy showed up. He watched everything click into place. He watched that last wall in Mark crumble as his own sister accused him of lying, even while holding the proof. And then Collins watched as Mark finally broke down at the realization of what happened. And Collins knew, those pills were not going to help anymore. This confrontation had completely surpassed the power of modern medication.


	2. Angel

**Should have said this last time: I DON'T OWN THEM…..**

**This is the next step back in the story line**

**Thanks bunches to all of my reviewers, you are amazing. Totally lifted my spirits. ( Keep up the good work!) I live for reviews. Seriously. **

**Sorry this is a little later than I wanted it out, but we had some weird power outages at the place I am staying this week, around a wedding I was in. so busy busy me, but here it is……**

**This one is a lot longer than the last one. I guess Angel just had more to say about Mark. **

**Angel**

Angel was lonely. She missed Collins while he was at work, teaching the dissatisfied youth at NYU. And she didn't want to drum. It was simply too gloomy for that, and odd heat wave had swept in that week along with the rain, it was muggy and hot and disgusting. So she dolled herself up in a cute light weight sun dress, to cheer herself up, and headed to the loft. Someone had to be home. Maybe her Mimi Chica would be in and they could go shopping in the guys closets for things to fix up.

She made her way up the stairs and was about to knock on Mimi's door when sounds from up the stairwell drifted down to her. It sounded like someone was crying. Though softly, yet as she walked up the stairs, she noticed the sounds got louder and angrier. She heard banging and yelling as she pulled open the loft door.

She was shocked at what she was met with. Mark was sitting against the window, almost curled up under the bench Roger liked to sit on when he played. His back to the scene out side, his screwed shut as tears ran down his face. He was screaming incoherently. Angel was able to hear, 'no, no', and 'please stop', but that was all she could understand. He had a knife in his hand, a sandwich left unattended on the table gave clarity to where the knife had come from.

She watched him twitching, thrusting the knife in front of him as though to ward off some larger evil that she could not see. Well that was going to make this a tad bit more difficult. She didn't want to get cut in the process of helping him.

"Mark, Mark honey, wake up." She called, edging ever closer to the film maker. "Mark, calm down, its Angel, I am here for you." The knife just flailed about faster, as the yelling increased. Angel backed off. Well that didn't work to well. What was he doing, what had caused this break down? She was scared, for herself, for Mark. For what was going on with him, and what would happen to him if she couldn't stop him.

What do you do in that instance? What was she supposed to do? She set down her purse. She slipped out of her clunky shoes so she could move faster if she needed to and she walked closer again. Calling Mark's name softly.

And that's when he turned the knife on himself. Scratching up his arm. The cuts were shallow and in general non-life threatening. It was that he kept scratching, kept pulling the knife across his skin to cut and cut and cut. The knife was dull, he must have been really pressing to cause those cuts. And it scared Angel even more. She froze, afraid that her presence was making this worse.

She didn't like seeing her Marky like this. He was frantic, incoherent, babbling words she didn't understand. Mark was strong and constant. He could be a bit detached behind his camera, but the world he saw was so much more vivid than the one they all saw. His films showed that. He was depth and power and the driving force that caused them all to keep living in this screwed up reality they were living (dying) in. But then she pondered, he could be more like a river than she realized, under his calm flowing surface he was anything but placid, the turmoil hidden beneath a glassy reflective surface. She saw what she wanted of herself in him and that was as deep as she cared to look before. That thought sadden her. She prided herself on knowing people, on helping them. And here she was, watching Mark tear into himself before she realized he was so broken.

Angle was about to simply jump him and wrestle the knife away when the loft door slid open.

"Fuck. Mark." It was Benny, of all people, who ran into the kitchen to grab something out of a draw and start the kettle.

"He is cutting his arm open and you make tea?" Angel spun to follow Benny's movement and then began yelling at him.

"He takes the medication in his tea. It's the only way he takes it. You calm him down, get him cleaned up. Come on, over here. Like this." Benny walked right up to Mark, took the knife and threw it towards the kitchen sink. "Mark. MARK. Mark buddy you need to calm down now. He's not here. Its just me and Angel. I am making you some tea, you like tea remember?" He slowly eased his arms around Mark, to stop the flailing. And glanced over to Angel. "Well, get the first aid kit." It was calm, collected. The only way she had ever seen Benny. He knew what was going on and how to fix it. She had instantly seen what had drawn the group to his friendship, and at the same time repulsed them.

She followed his orders, running into the bathroom and rummaging for the first aid kit.

"Get gloves on and clean up his arms. He should stay calm long enough for that. Band-Aides on the bad ones, wipe them all. I will get the tea ready." Benny stood and ran to get the kettle, leaving Angel with a catatonic Mark. Tears still fell from his eyes, and he flinched as she reached for his arm, but he wasn't fighting or yelling anymore. That scared Angel more than anything else, that he simply subjected himself to whatever she would have done to him.

She cleaned the cuts on his arm, most of them no worse than paper cuts. She placed a few band aides over three deeper cuts. She noted that his upper arms were littered with small scars, proof that this was not a one time event.

Benny came back with the tea and commanded Mark to drink it. He did so on a type of autopilot movement. He was afraid of all contact. He shrunk into the corner, eyes darting around the room when anything moved.

Angel followed Benny as he backed slowly away from Mark. She wanted to yell, she wanted to demand answers, but she felt if she made any move like that Mark would go back to screaming. So she settled for glaring at Benny, willing him to answer her, tell her what was going on.

"He doesn't take silence very well." Is what response she got. It was not a real answer. Of course Mark didn't like silence, it reminded him that everyone he held dear had left or was leaving him alone some day. Either with other loves, or due to a disease that none of them had asked for.

Angel waited for more.

"Ever since I have known him, he hasn't liked silence. He would always have music playing, or the tv on, even talk radio chatter to keep away other voices." Benny paused here, to glance at Mark. He was silently sipping the tea. Benny closed his eyes and then took Angel's hand and pulled her over to the kitchen and pulled open the silverware drawer. He pulled out the box that held the lofts odd assortment of eating utensils. Behind it was a bottle of pills Angel had never seen before. He held the bottle out to her, letting her pained fingers curl around the bottle and move it so she could read the label.

"He can't be alone, he can't be left to his own devices like this. It's why I show up randomly, to check on him." Benny watched her eyes read and reread the label.

It was Mark's name, her little visionary Mark. The one with dreams enough for all of Alphabet City, the one she fingered as the most normal of them all, was medicated for anxiety, depression, and emotional outburst. He was paranoid and delusional. He was afraid of silence. Funny that many of his films were silent, the audio recorder on his camera was broken, the man afraid of silence, saw a silent world reflected back at him.

"He hears things, sees people that are not here, whatever happened to him, it was before I met him. He didn't go on medication till our junior year at Brown. Before that I just, I just held him till he fell asleep. It wasn't often, cause he would go to the library to study or he would have the radio on already so I knew he would be ok." He paused again to check Mark, and saw that he was done with the tea so he moved to gather the cup and the film maker.

"Mark, hey buddy, you look a little sleepy. Why don't you go lay down for a little while, get some rest, then you can go filming. Maybe down to the park." Benny was gentle with him, kind, like an older sibling. Angel noted the change in Mark as well. He was sluggish and monotonous but it was different than before. Now he leaned into the contact that Benny offered, lingering for a hug before closing his bedroom door to sleep.

Benny washed and dried the mug, replacing it in the kitchen cabinet before he spoke again.

"I can't always be here for him anymore. I love Allison, even if the guys don't get that. I love them too, they just forget what we had in mind for each other. I didn't ask to have to shut down Maureen's protest space, or evict them. I do what I have to, to stay with the love of my life. But also for them. I will get Cyber Arts opened, one day, and then they will all be taken care of. Well mostly." His eyes wander to the closed bedroom door, and Angel again wonders at the softer side of Benny that she has never seen nor heard of from the rest of the group. And she wonders if they all missed as much of Benny as they apparently had of Mark.

"I can give them jobs, get their work produced, make sure they get better housing. Or at least get this place fixed up better. I just need time to have the funds and support to get it done."

"You really do care for them." Angel says. Benny looks at her, startled, he had forgotten whom he was speaking to.

"I wouldn't be here otherwise. If Roger had been home he would kill me, for even daring to step in. But I knew I had to check on Mark. He was almost out of his medication, and I saw Roger out, and knew if Mark was home he would need help. Its harder to be here for him with Roger going out now. I am glad he has Mimi and that he is happy, but it was easier to leave Mark when I knew Roger wasn't going to. You have to look out for him now. I can not be here all the time, and he needs the help."

"I can get him in to see.."

"No, don't take him anywhere, don't mention this to him, or to Roger, or even Collins and Mimi. God forbid you speak to Maureen. They can't know. No one can. Why do you think I sneak in when people are not here? Why do you think the medication is hidden?"

Angel just looked at him, visibly shaken from seeing Mark and now the yelling, Benny was almost shouting, but in whispers. He was afraid of waking Mark. The juxtaposition of fear for waking Mark and fear for Mark's mentality was startling. If Angel had been a poet she was certain there would have been plenty of material in this one fight to last her a life time.

"He went in to the shrink on a professors request when Mark broke down one day. He reacted badly to the whole experience, and to the idea of being on medication. But I found I could get it in to his drinks, and he would calm down. A half does if I had to leave for any reason, a full dose if I came home and he was already in an episode."

"He can not handle his own medication?" Angel asked, as her own beeper chose that moment to go off. What happened next was oddly ironic. Mark came out of his bedroom, walked to the kitchen for a glass of water and then handed the now full glass wordlessly to Angel. He waited for her to comply and take her AZT and then just as silently Mark retreated back to his room. Benny waited until he was certain Mark was asleep again.

"He can handle everyone but himself. Collins' HIV status and meds were the first he really got down. He doctored me when I was ill at school, he watched over Maureen and April and Roger when they were hung over. He helped with break ups and make ups, he held stupid jobs to pay he share of rent. But Mark absolutely can not deal with whatever is in his past. And I don't know how else to do this, he wont speak about it. He won't think about it. I swear half the time he doesn't even know it happened. And then in the silence, his mind reminds him, reminds him of who beat him, or who yelled at him, oppressed him, whatever it is. His body is telling him to deal with something his mind is not ready to processes. Just take care of him, ok? Check in on him when you are out this way. You give him tea to calm him down. Just grind the pill into the bottom of the cup and let it make like normal. Or if you need to, give him half before leaving him. He will be ok that way. He won't remember what happened, so don't speak to him of it." Benny placed the bottle, now full, back into the draw. He returned the silver wear and then he closed the draw. He turned to look at the drag queen.

"He needs an angel to watch him. And I wouldn't choose any other from you. You love him, I can see that. He trusts you, even if you don't see it, the way he films around you, his body language the few times I have seen the group together. He needs you. Just help him, watch over him. Who knows, maybe he will speak to you about it. Maybe he yells something you can use to find out how to help him heal. Take him to Life Support, watch his films. Something broke him, and we need to put him together again." Benny left her with those words.

Angel stood in the silent apartment. She cleaned up the first aid kit and the cleaning supplies. She put away the half made sandwich and cleaned the dishes that had accumulated in the sink. And the longer she remained, the easier it was for her to understand why a silent loft was so scary to anyone, let alone Mark. It brought to mind hard times she had living alone, dealing with her families rejection of herself. And she could feel the eerie silence as an oppressive blanket. She had only known the loft to be full of people and laughter, Roger's music, Maureen's voice, Collins' toast, the film projectors noise, and her own drumming. Never silent.

She let herself fall asleep on the old couch. And vowed to herself to take better care of the families care taker. She promised to stick up for Benny more in arguments. And she prayed to find a better way to heal Mark than pills he didn't know existed.

In the end she was left with only her lover to watch over their friend. She charged Collins with the same job she had taken. She knew he would do his best. He would help care for Mark, who never noticed he needed taking care of. But he wouldn't be the one to find out Mark's secret. No, Angel never really found out what was going on, but she knew as she took her last few breaths, that it would come out sooner or later. And she vowed to stay his guardian Angel through it all.

Angel was there, with tears in her eyes as Cindy confronted her brother. She was there in a blinding light and comforting presence with Mark as he finally broke down. Though the others would never see her in the glare of city lights on the dirty windowpanes, Mark would feel her smile and know that no matter what came next, she had known and not left him. She had known from the moment she beacame that guardian angel to him, and though he would not feel her hug for a long time coming, he would marvel at her spirtual strenght to shore him up in troubled time. Mark thanked whomever brough Angel to him. Angel thanked the same for allowing her the chance to help save Mark.


	3. Benny

**AN:** Oh wow, I haven't posted on this in soooo long. I am so sorry anyone waiting for this final chapter. It just didn't really want to be written, I am not quite happy with it, but it gets it out. Maybe I will change it later… who knows.

Don't own anything but the mistakes… all those are mine. Hasn't been betaed an I know it needs it, sorry.

As always reviews would be marvelous to feed the muse with.

Benny looked at the Dr. in stunned aw.

"You want me to what?" He was certain that he had heard wrong. That could not be what just came out of that man's mouth.

"I want you to watch your roommate for the next month and note when he cries, when he is emotionally detached. When he begins to freak out so to speak."

The guy was serious. He wanted Benny to watch Mark?

"I don't get it. Why?"

"I shouldn't tell you this, but his sessions are getting us no where and something has to give. Mark had a break down in a professor's office last month. He was screaming and flailing about, refusing to let anyone near him. He will not talk to me about what precipitated the incident."

"You mean he won't tell you why he flipped out." Benny clarified. "You don't have to sound professional to me to make up for not getting Mark to talk. No one gets Mark to talk about his emotions or his past. He just doesn't do it. I have tried for the past two years. We are best friends, roommates, and he just doesn't talk."

"So I have noticed. But be that as it may Benjamin. You can help him."

"Does Mark really need this kind of help, me spying on him?" Benny was upset.

"I can't find out how to help Mark unless I know what is going on. If you just help me find out what sets him off I can try and find out how to help Mark."

"Look you quack. I am not spying on my roommate so you can try and fix him. What Mark needs is to be left alone, he needs to be supported fullheartdly by his family. And right now, that is me. I am not going to betray him that way." Benny stormed from the office.

How unreasonable was that. To be asked to spy on his own roommate. Sure Mark was a little off, and Benny knew it was something to do with his family. Something about a fight they had. It was in Marks movements, it was in his voice when he spoke with his mother, and her voice on the answering machine in the dorm.

But Benny couldn't help watching Mark more closely now. Watching his shoulders become more and more hunched and the stress lines more propionate as the winter holidays approached. He saw Mark fall farther into himself. Benny watched the once lively young film student become small and withdrawn. He watched Mark loose weight and watched him flinch away from people all over campus as they walked. He listened to Mark's whimpers as the younger boy slept.

Benny did the only thing he could think to do. He went back to the Doctor.

"I won't tell you what I found, other than I am worried about my friend." Benny looked at the man.

"The only thing I have left is this prescription. Its an anti depressant, he refused to take it, to talk about it. He took it once, and I found sold it off to a friend he felt needed it more."

"Sounds like Mark." Benny laughed softly. It really did, his ablity to care for everyone and everything, except himself. And he would put himself through the most humiliating things to help those around him.

"I will give it to you, if you agree to watch over him and help me get him to open up."

"I can't promise you that. I won't make him talk about this, I wont force it. Mark has to acknowledge it first, and we both know he hasn't. I will take the prescription and make sure he uses it when he needs it. But I am not, not spying on him for you."

Benny took the prescription, had it filled and hidden away in his desk by the end of the day.

He continued to watch Mark, watching him as finals began to take their toll on the young film maker. Watch as the call from home became more frequent, and less often answered.

And then one night, the night before Mark was slated to take the train home, he watched as Mark completely fell apart.

Screaming work Benny from his slumber, his roommates screams. Jolting from bed he watched as Mark faugh off some deamon in his sleep. The screams not really subsiding as Benny talked to Mark, trying to coach him awake.

'Mark, buddy, come on man wake up." Mark only thrashed more.

"No, I wont, please, I promise I wont say…… Stop… Please, no more…. Daddy stop it…."

And at that point Benjamin Coffen the Third, felt something inside him snap. If this whatever it was, was something that had to do with Mark's father, Benny was never letting Mark go home alone again.

But before Benny could deal with that, he had to get Mark awake, and had to stop him from tearing all the skin along his arms off as he scratched at his unseen asaliant.

Benny plugged the tea kettle that Mark's mom had sent them into the wall and set to make a cup of tea, with the little pill from the Dr. crushed into the bottom of the mug before moving back to tackle Mark.

"MARK, Marky wake up man, your having a nightmare." Benny gave up trying to call Mark and simply sat upon his roommate and grabbed his arms.

Mark woke with a jolt and let out another type of scream eniterly when he came to with Benny on his stomach.

"What the fuck Benny."

"Dude, you were having this panic attack in your sleep." Benny stands and moves to the tea kettle to pour up the water right before it whistles, making both guys a cup of tea and mixing Mark's well before sitting on the bed next to the still recovering blond.

"So, you gonna be ok?" Benny asked.

"Yeah, sure, it was just a nightmare." Mark's voice was shaky, but he accepted the tea willingly.

"Hey, man I was wondering what you were doing over the break, I mean I know your going home and all, but I got these friends back in New York City, that I was gonna visit right after Christmas. If you wanted to join us that would be great."

"I, well, my mother." Mark paused, taking a sip of tea. "When can I meet you?"

Mark never did make it home after that night. He slept past the time his train was leaving, Benny told him the alarm never went off, but Benny knew it was the medication that made Mark sleep, and Benny knew he needed to sleep. They both managed to catch a seat on the train Benny used to get into the city. Mark spent his first Christmas ever with Benny and his family.

They never did talk about what was wrong with Mark. Though by catching snippets of phone conversations and what Mark would scream when he had a particularly bad panic attack, Benny pieced it together. Benny never told the Dr. what happened, only worked it so that Mark would always have his prescription filled when he needed it.

Benny would never push Mark to talk, and Mark knew he was always there, even when Benny had married and moved out. Mark who always trusted him to do the right thing, to come to him if Benny was having troubles, and Benny did, at least once a month, if only to ease Mark's mind that Benny hadn't died.

Benny continued to come over and check the prescription level, to check on Mark when he knew Roger was out and Collins and Maureen had moved out. Benny would watch until an Angel came to take care of Mark. And when Angel left there was Collins and one day he found out, one day there was everyone to take care of the film maker. They took care, but they never knew why. No one knew why they were medicating Mark, till Cindy.

Benny was glad he missed that. Because, Benny knew as he looked at the phone in his hands, if he had been there, Cindy wouldn't have walked away. Because as long as it took the rest of them to understand Mark, Benny had known for so much longer. And he knew that Cindy would be the end of Mark as he had known him.


End file.
